Monday, October 20, 2008

Observations from Sat Nite Mixed

As Ren and I embark on the mediocre existence known as being "middle-aged," we joined a social phenomenon - a bowling league.

Our team, Mark It Zero, consists of a rag tag group of our peers, including:

Ren (who is a decent bowler);

Me (Ariel) - I come from a long line of bowlers (mom and pop Moore met in a bowling alley);

Fireman Brian;

Fat Willard (who realized you're supposed to put your middle two fingers into the ball AFTER he bowled an 89, 88, and 85 in consecutive games);

Mr. and Mrs. JD;

Hondaman (a very good bowler);

And, of course, Pop McCormack, Ren's "legendary" father.

We are here to have fun, and we figure with this group we're bound to get 4 people each Saturday with nothing better to do than bowl.

Because so much happens at bowling that could be fodder for a post of its own, I've decided that my HHR maternity leave will end here and that I will begin a new weekly column, just because.

Welcome to "Observations from Sat Nite Mixed"

The alley has a bar in it. But rather than being a bowling alley with a bar attached, it's moreso a bar with a few lanes attached.

Curly likes to "kick it" and "spank the children" as the pins fall. I don't know what this means, but being that he wears acid wash and sports a perm, I figure its best not to ask.

The lesbians in this league apparently take it quite serious have been known to acuse people of "sandbagging" it, ie bowling shitty to get a low average, which in turn gives you more handicap the next week. The one we bowled this week made exactly that claim against our teammate Fireman Brian, who's average is 117 (he bowled two games in the 150s).

Pop McCormack complained the first 7 frames that his gutter balls were due to the fact that his alley shoes were too scuffed to properly slide. Two pairs of shoes later, and no discernible difference in play, not sure it crossed his mind that maybe 15 years and 9 knee surgeries somehow might have thrown him off his game. But if it's not one thing, it's another. God love him.

Great quote from Mom McCormack: "When I buy him shoes, he'll have nothing left to complain about."

H, whose team is called the "H-Bomz" literally throws a 6lb ball about 6 ft in the air before it lands somewhere down the lane and happens to hit pins. But she is just there for the fun. We heart her.

Ren found a limited edition NWO alley ball, complete with the bowling alley's name etched onto it. Probably one of the best white trash artifacts discovered to date.